


The Jarring of Judgement and Reason

by smallprotector



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: (possibly), Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Lashing Out, Memory Loss, Mentioned scars, PTSD, Panicking, Shivering, but Frumpkin's there?, implied possibility of sexual assault, in which Caleb has more than one trigger and various trauma responses, mentioned torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22090780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallprotector/pseuds/smallprotector
Summary: So… Caleb has to make wisdom saving throws when he kills people. But what other kinds of effects might he deal with?Featuring trembling/shivering, lashing out, panicking, and a theory about Caleb’s Secret Book.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 160





	The Jarring of Judgement and Reason

A wizard who couldn’t keep their hands steady was worthless. That lesson had been taught to any students at the Academy- and Caleb had had the privilege of getting ever so many lessons reinforced until they were etched in his bones, his skin. This one had been one of Master Ikithon’s favourite to teach. 

So, when his hands wouldn’t stop shaking after the fight with the gnolls at Alfield, he tried his best to hide it. What would the others think of a useless wizard? (An even more worthless wizard- his mind added ruthlessly. He’d already broken down after killing something during the fight, like some child floundering in front of their first traitor.) Nott, his little mouse, knew to give him some distance when he gently pushed her away- and the free drinks in the tavern definitely helped distract her. But the purple shiny one seemed determined to torment Caleb with his knowledge of Caleb’s failures. 

“Alright there, Mr. Widogast?”

“Fine.” The single was hard to force past his chattering teeth, but he hoped it would be enough to get attention off of him.

“Are you cold? I usually won’t lend anyone my coat for anything less than a crown of flowers, but I could be persuaded.”

“I am fine.” Caleb wouldn’t even allow himself to think about persuasion right now. He just had to get his godsdamned body to stop betraying him. 

“Well, the offer’s open. You know I always love warming others up.” 

The wink that went with the words twisted something in Calebs stomach. He didn’t like what any of this was implying- at best if was mockery and at worst it was further proof of how Caleb was deceiving everyone he was with into seeing him as some kind of person who deserved good things. 

And he couldn’t even stop fucking shivering even though the screams had quieted. 

“I. Am. Fine.” 

These words he knew. These words he would cling to. 

“Well, who am I to interfere with obvious lies. I love those! I’ll leave where I’m not wanted, though.” 

And finally, Caleb had some peace. He couldn’t leave his seat in the corner of the tavern yet without calling attention to himself, but her snapped Frumpkin into existence and tried to focus on the feeling of his fur until everything else faded away somewhat. 

“Fuck that Vollstreckass-person. How dare she try to hurt Caleb. I’m glad Essek killed her, she deserved it- even if he is a creepy fucker. I mean who signs up for that shit?”

Caleb’s muscles tensed up when he heard Beauregard’s angry voice. He knew she was right. That Vollstrecker had to keep choosing her life, and even if she had been an innocent (a victim) in the past, she had long since lost all hope of redemption. 

But that did not stop his voice from rising up without his conscious control. “You think she wanted this? Think about how many you have killed Beauregard. You- you- just fuck you and your judgements!”

There was silence. 

“Caleb man, I didn’t mean it like- she tried to kill you!” Beauregard seemed honestly perplexed by Caleb’s outburst. 

“That would have been the least of her sins!” Caleb didn’t even know why he was shouting. He’d agreed to the grisly death of the assassin and he’d though everything Beauregard was saying. But somehow hearing hr say it was making his blood boil. 

“Whoa, Caleb, why would that- you know we care about you right?” 

“Well, you shouldn’t! And if you think she deserved it then so do I!” 

“Fuck that shit! This isn’t all about you Caleb!” 

“It’s not about you either! Maybe she should have attacked you instead, then you could be all- all”

He couldn’t even finish the sentence, the anger burning so brightly in his chest froze into a horrible lump of regret that was threatening to choke him even as it turned his guts to ice. “I didn’t- Beauregard, that was cruel, I shouldn’t have said that- please,” he couldn’t even get the words out right. 

“Fuck you Caleb, fuck you.” Disappointment barely masked the betrayal in her voice. He didn’t even dare look up at her as she stalked off, ignoring his whispered pleas for forgiveness. 

Caleb snapped his finger and summoned Frumpkin. Why had he said that? It was as if the words had been ripped from his chest, hot and blazing in a way usually only his fire spells left his body.

The man hadn’t even looked that much like Ikithon. The hair was right, and the height felt right (Ikithon had always seemed so much taller than Caleb), but there was no malice in his gaze as it wandered over the stands of the market.

And yet. 

What if it had been him? What if Ikithon had tracked him down, what if Caleb had doomed his friends by his very existence? 

He had to hide. He had to get away from this market, so full of people who could all be watching his every move- and how could one measly necklace protect against hundreds of watching eyes if they were right there, looking at him, seeing him, surrounding him from all directions- he had to get out- had to get away- 

The world blurred as his heart beat heavy and fast to match his breathing while he walked, almost running in his haste to get away from all those eyes and the person who couldn’t (mustn’t) be the spectre from his very worst nightmares. 

Once he was alone in his room, alarm spell set and Frumpkin acting as his guard, Caleb started to calm down. Once Nott came back with a handful of shiny buttons she was excited about he could even smile at her, happiness at her fierce joy not even entirely faked. 

Essek had taught Caleb more spells today. Essek was being helpful. He had to stand behind Caleb and correct his hand movements on the spells, that was how individual teaching worked. Sure, the others made jokes about Essek flirting with him and silly things like that but- they just didn’t understand what arcane teaching was like. 

So when Essek’s hand strayed to Caleb’s backside for an unmistakeable squeeze after their latest lesson, Caleb froze. 

Had the others been right all along? Fuck. If everyone else had noticed that Essek wanted- this from him, he should have noticed too. Essek must have thought he knew. 

Had he been leading him on? 

It didn’t matter. 

Even if this made him want to scratch open his arms and climb out of his skin, he had to figure out how to use it. At the very least, he had to put up with it- that was how teaching worked. If Essek wanted this from him he had no other choice. 

You didn’t say no to a teacher. 

(But that night he went over and over all their interactions, trying to figure out if there was something he could change to stop encouraging this interest. Was it his tone, his words, what had he missed? (and even worse, a thought trickled through his brain like ice water- had he lead others on like this? Was there more he had forgotten, were the missing time in his early memories something other than the usual torture he had assumed it was for so long?))

And once they left to go visit Yussah- well, if he didn’t suggest they check in on Essek for a while, that was just because he had other priorities. 

Caleb made sure he was alone before he took out his book. Even though he trusted his friends so much he called them family by now, he wanted to make sure no one ever knew where it was, or that it existed at all. 

He wrote down a quick summary of what happened today. Not everything (he had realised, long ago, just how many things happened in a day and how much paper he would need to use), but the important things. He added in a few unimportant details in between, things no one would think to pay attention to (Caduceus had made mushrooms for breakfast and Jester had to be coaxed into eating them by adding little sprigs of herbs, Frumpkin had spent a full thirty-two minutes making biscuits on Fjord’s lap as he looked uncomfortable, and he’d seen a lizard animal scamper away from the tree on their roof when he went there in the evening). 

Then he set about reading, starting from where he had gotten about halfway through last night. For every day he forced himself to compare his memories with what he had written, comparing times and details until he was certain everything was as it should be. He paid particular attention to the entries where Essek and Yussah were mentioned, sighing almost silently in relief when everything matched up. He had expected it to but- a confirmation was always reassuring. 

He had to make sure. He remembered everything- but he had to make sure it was right. He wouldn’t allow his mind to be used against him ever again.

He would keep himself safe, and he had people to help him now.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about how upsetting this is. I tried to end it on a somewhat positive note, but to be honest with Trent Ikithon still alive I didn't feel like it could be any more positive than that. Comments are still greatly appriciated? I'm also on tumblr as ohwormhere, come say hi :)
> 
> Oh, and a happy little note: Caleb calls Nott little mouse in this fanfic cause it's mostly his internal thoughts, but if he had to say it out loud he would call her his kleine Maus (and Spatz sometimes.)


End file.
